Stress Relief
by HobbitFeet69
Summary: Stressed out and sore after a hunt gone sideways, Sam makes the effort to unwind. Sabriel.


Title: Stress Relief

Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, mentions of Dean/Castiel

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Up to season 6, but pretty much completely AU immediately after season 5. Sam never went to hell and Gabriel never died.

Warnings: None

Summary: Stressed out and sore after a sour hunt, Sam makes the effort to unwind. Gabriel helps.

Un-beta'd

It was the middle of December when Dean found an honest to god, easy-as-pie salt and burn. After the shitstorm that comprised of their life during the almost-apocalypse a ghost hunt was a blessing. Or something like it. Until Sam found himself slammed against almost every surface in the cellar of a particularly pissy vengeful spirit.

Needless to say, it wasn't the easy salt and burn that they assumed it to be. Of course, it occurred while Gabriel was on clean up duty in heaven so he couldn't step in to sort things out faster and to prevent the gangly man from collecting bruises as through black and blue skin discoloration was in the height of fashion.

Sam didn't blame him for his absence. It couldn't be helped for obvious reasons. Once Castiel made the decision to become human, Gabriel was needed to step in to keep things settled in heaven. The absence of Michael was a big deal, and the vast majority of heaven's angels couldn't quite cope with the brand new idea of free will. Gabriel was keeping an eye on progress until he could safely hand the reigns over to Joshua.

This meant a lot less time with Sam. His brother and Castiel were usually busy entertaining themselves and that oftentimes made Sam feel like the third wheel. Or he was left back at the motel entirely.

It was another issue for which he couldn't fault someone else. He was glad to see Dean so happily involved with another person, even if that person used to be a million-plus-year-old angel. Sam found himself reading for pleasure in his free time instead of allowing himself to mope. That is, when Gabriel couldn't spare a moment to drop in.

Almost a week after Sam tussled with the cellar walls he realized he was still tense and somewhat miserable. It had been almost a month since he last saw Gabriel and he certainly missed the shorter man's company.

He chose to try and remedy a part of his problem during one of the nights Dean and Castiel were away from the motel. They were having a "date night," a term Dean adamantly refused to use no matter how true it was. The dinner and subsequent movie would keep the pair busy long enough for Sam to spend his alone time relaxing in the mode he saw fit.

Still aching, his skin dyed in a myriad of ugly blues and browns from the healing bruises, Sam headed down to the nearest convenience store. It was a couple blocks away from the motel so he decided to meander over to the store on foot; hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets and shoulders hunched up to keep the chilly air off his neck.

Ignoring the curious glances that flit over his battered face, Sam purchased the items he set out to obtain before walking briskly back to the hotel. The brothers rarely ventured north during the winter months but it sometimes couldn't be helped.

Sam quickly made his way back inside the motel room, one that he occupied alone while his brother and Castiel stayed in a room further down from him. He preferred this arrangement both because the two couldn't be expected to keep their hands to themselves, among other things, in Sam's presence, and he relied on his own solitude for the stolen moments when Gabriel paid him a visit.

He tapped the snow from his boots at the threshold, toeing them off and moving immediately over to the heating unit. It looked old but when he adjusted the knob to a higher temperature he could feel the air immediately change to a more desirable level. Sam shucked off his outer layers and made his way into the bathroom with his purchases.

The first item he fished from the bag was a scrub brush, a cheap bottle of an all-purpose cleaning agent being the second. Kneeling beside the soap scum marred tub he proceeded to scrub it clean. By the time he finished his muscles spasmed uncomfortably where he exerted the most physical effort. It took a few painful moments to get back to his feet, bones creaking as though he were thirty years older.

The next plan of action made his cheeks color in mild embarrassment, but he refused to think about it too much. Besides, it wasn't like anyone else would find out. Even if Dean miraculously discovered his stress relief activities he couldn't hold it over Sam's head.

Over the past year, since Castiel's decision to fall, he had been determined to try as many human experiences as possible. Dean made damn sure he managed to, even struggling through some of the more embarrassing requests. His willingness to help the ex-angel was partially due to the guilt Dean inevitably felt knowing that Castiel chose him over his family, but mostly because he honestly loved him.

Sam respected his brother's persistence, even joined in to lend a hand once in a while, but this was one of the situations he wouldn't allow Dean to lord over given his own circumstance.

Stripping down and turning on the tap, Sam squeezed a generous amount of a generic green apple scented body wash into the rush of water that slowly flooded the bath. The pungent chemical odor of the cheap soap rose with the steam. Fat bubbles multiplied quickly inside the tub, achieving their intended goal. The youngest Winchester stepped in, hissing silently at the sting of heat on his skin as he eased down into the water.

The tub was obviously too small for a man of his size to sit in comfortably, so he stretched his legs up and pressed the soles of his feet to the tiled wall above the bath. He would need to lower them after a short amount of time, or risk his legs falling asleep, but the awkward position afforded him the ability to soak his problem muscles.

With one arm rested on one of the bath's edges, Sam draped the other across his eyes to block out the ugly glare of the bathroom light.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because the creak of a door startled him awake.

"Easy, kiddo," Gabriel stepped in, assessing the situation with a raised brow before shutting the door behind him to keep in the heat. Sam blinked, adjusting to the light and attempting to gauge how long he had dozed. Most of the larger bubbles were gone from the surface of the bath water, leaving small clumps of tiny bubbles to cling to his skin.

Since the intruder was Gabriel he didn't give much thought to scrambling for decency. The archangel had seen him naked plenty of times already and Sam was almost certain that at least sixty percent of the time they were together was spent in bed or on other surfaces that could withstand both of their weight during vigorous sex. The other forty percent was divided between laughing at crappy B movies, consuming large quantities of various goodies, and coming up with pranks to play on their brothers.

Sam painstakingly tucked his numb legs into the now lukewarm water. His neck protested his new position, sore from lying against the hard lip of the tub for so long. He sat up fully, looking at Gabriel curiously and having the angel return the sentiment with a touch of amusement.

"So… a manly bubble bath."

"Don't start," Sam grunted, rubbing the back of his neck, Probably should have avoided falling asleep. The angel smiled but refrained from ribbing him further.

"Could've just asked you know. I would have fixed you right up. Still can if you want me too."

"What can I say," Sam sighed. "I like doing things the hard way."

"Sure do," Gabriel agreed. Crouching beside the tub he dipped a finger in the tepid water and brought it back up to a more pleasant temperature. The hunter gave a quiet moan.

"You're pruning, babe," he pointed out.

"Don't care."

Sam cupped some of the freshly warmed water in his hands and poured it over his chilled knees, his angelic lover watching his feeble attempts at gleaning heat.

"If you get out, I'm sure I can find a way to warm you up," he said coyly.

"'M not really in the mood tonight."

"Who said anything about sex?"

Sam just snorted in disbelief, reluctantly extracting himself from the tub. Goosebumps immediately raced across his flesh, despite all the built up steam the room contained. Leaning forward to switch open the drain, he heard Gabriel make a low, appreciative sound at the movement. The hunter barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

He toweled off quickly, Gabriel enjoying the view even though his actions were brusque and efficient. Sam still felt sore but not in the stiff sort of way that told of knotted, abused muscles. He felt pleasantly loose limbed after the hot bath, glad that he decided to take it. If not for the lasting ache, however, he would have taken Gabriel up on his offer of what promised to be amazing sex.

With the archangel, no sex was ever bad sex. He almost felt sacrilegious for turning him down.

Gabriel handed him a pair of sweats, ones he managed to pull out of Sam's travel bag with his angelic prowess. Sam stepped into them carefully, mindful of his sore body. The archangel snapped his fingers, a small smirk curling his lips, and disappeared from the room.

Sam sighed, used to the man leaving suddenly due to his busy heavenly schedule. He had still hoped to be able to spend the evening in Gabriel's company since he bothered to show his face, but he should have known not to get his hopes up.

Upon opening the door he was nicely surprised. The heater was still rattling away, making the room toasty, but that was expected. He smiled softly, seeing Gabriel perched on what used to be the motel's bed. He'd changed it into something a lot more comfortable looking, not to mention cleaner, and was in a different outfit himself. Sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt replaced the jeans and jacket he wore less than a minute prior.

Sam shuffled over to the bed and slipped under the covers, pulling them back and waiting for the smaller man to join him. Gabriel followed suit and Sam curled around him, laying his head against his chest.

"Thank you," he murmured. Gabriel leaned down to kiss his forehead, carding a hand through his hair.

"Go to sleep, Sammy."

And so he did. If in the morning his aches and bruises were mysterious gone, neither man mentioned it.


End file.
